- Yo, I can't believe you let the
assistant manager punk us like that, son.
- Yeah, whatever, yo.
- Whatever.
- Yeah.
- Your brother need all his money if he gon' cop that brick.
Know what I mean?
- Now don't be talkin' to me about my brother, yo.
[Old Man] - Hey, Bobby! Hey.
- I'm gon' catch y'all niggas later, man.
- Huh? 'Sup?
- Yeah, you serious?
Try'n to stop and play games, and shit?
Ain't you got Monopoly at home, Nigga?
- Y'all want to beat it, that move piece...
- Y'all, chill! I told y'all niggas I'ma catch y'all later.
(laughs)
- A-ight, son.
(bluesy guitar notes)
[Old Man] - Been awhile since I took your money, Youngblood.
- You ain't takin' nothin' from me today.
- A'ight?
- Well, well. Let's get it on, let's get it on.
Yeah...!
- Yo, Homeboy.
Let me get a dime bag.
- What?
- Weed, man.
- Hey. Wrong homeboy.
- Yo. Can you believe that shit?
- You sure you ain't that homeboy? Eh?
- That ain't me.
(single bass note)
- Who are you, then?
(violin music)
- There's stuff I gotta do.
For my family.
And I do be havin' other shit on my mind.
(chess piece clicks)
- Clearly.
(chess piece clicks)
(violin quavers bleakly)
- I be hearin' music in my head.
All day long.
And I get lost in that shit.
(thoughtful piano)
I love it.
And I get put out, 'cause, uh, you know, uh...
Business...
- Like a splash of cold water on your face.
(chuckles)
- Yeah, man, somethin' like that.
- Well it's nobody else's job to
chase your dreams for you.
Sound to me like you're out here doin'
somebody else's business, and not your own!
Speakin' of business...
(chess piece clicks)
Check mate.
(laughs)
(dramatic theme music)